Staring Into The Face Of Heaven
by ilikecrystals
Summary: Written for LJ's Spanking World's Spankvent Calendar 2015: Implement In A Christmas Stocking; This story contains WINCEST & Spanking so if that squicks you, please move along. Dean remembers when they were lovers but Sam moved on, to college, to Jess and now that he's back, he doesn't seem to want any part of the life they had before. But Dean sure does.


Written for Spanking World's Spankvent Calendar 2015: Finding An Implement In Their Christmas Stocking

Pairing: Dean/Sam/mention of John Winchester  
Type Of Spanking: Erotic/Punishment/Pleasure  
Implement: Hand/Paddle  
Rating: M/R

 **Author's note:** Okay, this story is waaaayy late, due on December 17 but I got caught up in the details and what was supposed to be a little fun spanking story turned into a love story and I couldn't let it go. My details may be way off as it takes place pre-Season 1 and during Season 1 of Supernatural and my memory is faulty. Also, part of the story is written in the past so my tenses may be way off. I tried to fix but if you see any glaring errors, please bring to my attention. As always, I love constructive criticism and reviews so bring it! Thanks for reading :)

Be Warned, this story contains **INCEST** so if that's not your cup of tea, please move on. If however, you choose to stay, there's **erotic spanking, rimming and smutty sex** inside so come on in and enjoy yourself

##

Damn it, what the hell is wrong with him?

It's been three months since Dean went and got Sam from college, _three months_ -

Hunting shoulder to shoulder, been through so much since then, Jessica's death, Dad gone missing and having to learn each other all over again as they took on whatever monster crossed their path, just trying to fight the good fight and why the hell isn't he over this damn shit by now?

Can't help remembering, can't help wondering…

Does Sam ever think about it or even remember?

Because for Sam, it's been three plus years and a lifetime away from what they used to be.

Had a girlfriend there at college, _had a life,_ separate from Dean, had left him behind when he went to make his way in the world and it still hurts, a cut deep in his soul where it huddles, ripped and bleeding, still raw but Dean will never admit that out loud, never reveal that sort of weakness to anyone, much less his pain in the ass little brother.

Doesn't want to lay his own helpless shit at Sam's door, especially since it looks like Sam moved on.

Watches his brother sleep in the twin bed next to him and remembers.

Wonders if Sam even still has it.

##

They'd been sparring in the woods behind an old house they were holed up in the first time it happened. Sam was just shy of eighteen, his body sweating underneath Dean's, hard chords of muscle straining to flip Dean over and Dean had been on top, straddling his brother's hips, trying to keep him in place-

It had become harder and harder as Sam got taller and stronger but Dean could still best him-

He finally managed to drag Sam's clawed hands off of him and up overhead, holding his brother down and chuckling even as the tickle of his own perspiration dripped down onto Sam's face, "Pinned ya."

And Sam's curses as he struggled beneath him were music to his ears, "Son of a _bitch!_ "

Dean had shaken his head, making sure to throw more drops of sweat on Sam and he'd been rewarded with a sharp knee kick to the ass which, okay, had stung like hell and had given him a bruise for days.

He sat down heavy on Sam's legs, grinding his butt in good so the fucker would know that Dean was the winner, like always, "You give, Sam?"

And to his credit, Sam continued to buck and huff until he exhausted himself, wouldn't give up, admit defeat and Dean had been proud of him for that. But in the end, Sam gave a shuddering sigh and relaxed under Dean's hard grip and the dead weight of the body on his, clipping out one word that screamed payback as soon as he got free, "Fine."

And he just looked so pissy and bitchy and just so damn _cute_ -

Dean couldn't help himself.

And looking back, he honestly doesn't know if he meant it sexually or if it was just a push to piss his little brother off even more but regardless of the intent, he acted without thought and it changed them forever.

He'd bent down and kissed Sam on the mouth.

Just a quick peck and he withdrew fast, ready to smart-mouth it away but the look on Sam's face, _fuck_ -

It was hunger and heat and passion, big soft eyes locked on his, the twist of his brother's lips oddly sensual and when Sam lunged up, kissed back, well, Dean just had to, didn't he?

And before he could finish a coherent thought, they'd gotten their tongues in each other's mouths, Sam's freed hands now roaming rough over Dean's body, the caress sweet sin, his long fingers leaving sparking trails on heated flesh and Dean had a hand down Sam's pants before he could snag a breath, jerking him off quick, kissing his brother hard and desperate-

They came all over each other embarrassingly fast, Sam's hot palm dragging and pulling at Dean's dick while Dean worked him back, a rockslide of emotions, love and lust turned to shame and doubt, fear and regret and they couldn't look at each other the rest of the day-

Sam stayed hunched over his computer, hiding behind his hair, silently watching Dean as he paced restless as a tiger until Dean had finally snapped, grabbed his keys and his coat and threw a "Be back soon." over his shoulder as he fled the tension-filled room, ran away from his guilt and his little brother.

Needed to get the hell outta there, needed to get drunker than he'd ever been before, to forget whatever the hell had possessed him to kiss _Sam_ , to _touch_ Sam, for Christ's sake-

To dirty and sully what was pure and clean.

Needed to drown out the image of his baby brother, lying slack-legged on the moss, twigs and leaves in his tangled hair, his dick soft and limp against unzipped jeans, the fucked-out grin on Sam's mouth the dirtiest Dean had ever seen and the sleepy sounds after Sam had shot his load, holy fuck-

Just made Dean want to kiss him again and again, until they couldn't breathe, until they were both suffocated with this thing, wanted the taste of Sam inside his soul and Jesus Christ, they were so _fucked_ -

##

Went to the local bar, picked up the pretty brown haired waitress with the huge green eyes and they found their way to the back room, Dean stupid with too many shots and not enough Sam and he'd kissed her hard, like he meant it and hefted her onto the desk, got a condom on in record time and was inside her fast, needed to get his rocks off inside a fucking girl, for Christ's sake.

Didn't need his brother, didn't.

Didn't need to kiss and hold, hug and love the most precious thing in the world to him, needed to keep his distance and leave Sammy alone.

So he'd pumped his hips fast, let his dick lead and closed his eyes, wanted the feeling to roll over him and he'd almost captured it-

But then, she opened her eyes and looked at him and it wasn't Sam, it wasn't the eyes he wanted or the body beneath him and he'd pulled out with despair, fucked as all hell, and jerked himself off while he brought her to orgasm with little effort and even less interest.

Managed to come, shot his load but it was rough going, a hard achievement because his dick knew it wasn't anywhere near his brother and now that he'd tasted heaven, ashes and dust couldn't compete and all he wanted was Sam.

He stumbled back to their motel room at three in the morning, needed to get back home-suddenly, like life or death, needed to see Sam, touch him, and make sure they were okay.

He unlocked the door, swaying with scotch and emotion, toed off his boots and was staggering towards the bathroom when he was stopped, Sam there suddenly, in his face, real and rough, and he was yanked around by an arm, shoved against the wall and unzipped fast.

It took a few seconds because he _did_ have a lot of hooch in his brain but when his vision finally cleared, Dean saw his brother kneeling in front of him on the stained motel carpet and fingers were fumbling against his pants, before he heard the sound of his belt coming undone, a zipper hiss and Sam had Dean's dick out in the cool night air.

Swallowed him down in a heartbeat, before Dean could stop him, before he could tell Sam that he needed to wash, that he was unclean, had been with someone else that night and he wasn't worthy of Sam's love, of Sam's attention.

But Sam didn't seem to care, just moaned at the taste and took him in deeper, sucked and worked Dean's dick using his hand and mouth in rhythm, making Dean's toes curl, jacking up his breath to harsh gasps with each downward plunge of Sam's hot mouth and he'd had a death grip on Sam's hair, hips pumping helplessly because no way in hell could he stop this.

Sam was a fucking pro at blow jobs.

And after it was done, and Dean had come, shuddering down his brother's throat, he came back to himself, jealousy rearing its ugly head and he'd pushed Sam off, angrily demanded to know where Sam had done this before, his gut and fists clenching with hate.

"Never did." Sam had denied it but Dean was sure he was lying, because how could his brother know just exactly where and how to touch him perfectly, so he couldn't hold back, so he could do nothing else but explode in his brother's mouth-

"The truth, Sammy. Now." He was actually shaking with rage at the thought of Sam being with someone else.

"Is the truth. Let you lead me, you had your hands in my hair and you were setting the pace. Watched your face to see if you liked what I was doing and if you didn't, I changed it up. Just wanted to make you feel good, Dean. Never been with anyone else like this, I swear. Never wanted to."

And he'd seen the truth in Sam's eyes and it filled him like nothing else, spread over him with a fierce love that he'd die for and he'd moaned with it, dropped down on his knees and cupped Sam's face gently, caressing his mouth with a soft thumb before taking those sweet lips for his own, hearing the gasp of Sam's inhaled breath just before he swallowed it down.

Kissed his brother until the lips under his were swollen and tender from Dean's attention and then pushed Sam back onto the floor, yanked down his jeans and skivvies and stared at the length between his legs because _damn_ …

Sammy was hung.

And Dean licked his lips, had to taste-

Gave as good as he got and soon enough, Sam's thighs were tense-stiff, he was straining up, bucking into Dean's mouth with stuttering hips, shouting out his love, his need for Dean to keep going until he exploded, shooting come bitter and hot but fuck, it was Sam and that made it the sweetest ambrosia Dean had ever tasted and he couldn't get enough, kept searching for more-

Sam's tired chuckle and the hand pushing against his head made Dean stop and he'd come up alongside Sam, kissed him goodnight, natural, normal, and they'd fallen asleep just like that, wrapped around each other's half-naked bodies, dicks hanging out, sated and complete.

And the next morning had been the start of their new lives.

They never made love. Not completely.

They jerked each other off, gave each other blow jobs and pushed fingers inside to tickle and drive each other crazy but never went all the way. And it was always under cover, clothed in darkness, never talked about or brought to daylight, nope-

They would go days without touching and then Sam would slant a look or Dean would give a quirk of lips and they both knew it was on and they would find each other in the night.

Never enough and always too much, it was mind-blowing, heart-ripping every single time, killing and healing in turn and the shame of it never went away. Once it was done, they parted and never spoke of it, often going hours without looking at each other because they both knew how wrong it was.

But Dean didn't care.

He knew it was wrong, sure he did. But stopping it because it was wrong? Wasn't happening. Because he loved Sam, heart and soul, didn't matter if they were brothers, Sam was his, had been since Dean carried him out of that fire and this was just a continuation of that.

Sam was his.

Loved the damn kid more than life, it was an all-consuming, gut-wrenching kind of thing that took him over, made him a little insane and Dean knew it. Didn't mean he could change it or wanted to and he would've died for Sam in a heartbeat, without question. And for that reason, he lived for each night, for each touch because it made him whole, complete.

Made him feel loved like he never had before.

Couldn't ever tell Sammy that, though, because it would damn them both. He was pretty sure that as far as Sam was concerned, this thing between them was just an itch that needed scratching and nothing more. Sammy didn't need it like he did so Dean took what he could get and told himself he was happy with that. Wanted to make love to his brother, was sometimes so desperate for it that his belly ached with it but wasn't gonna push anything because he didn't want what they _did_ have together to stop or change.

So he took whatever crumbs Sam would give him.

##

It was a few months after Sam turned eighteen that they hit a sharp curve and everything shifted into more.

##

Dean blew in the motel room at high-speed, sure the assholes from the bar were right behind him and started yelling for Sam to pack his damn shit and _move, move, move_ -

Sam had been sleeping but to his credit, was on his feet in motion before Dean finished hollering. He packed quick, shoving things in haphazardly and was ready before Dean, who'd stopped to retrieve his flask after it rolled under the bed-

"Come on, come on!" Dean had gritted, reaching in as far as he could, only to feel the cool metal graze his fingertips and damn, he couldn't reach the fucker-

"Get up!" Sam lifted him bodily out of the way and bent down, stretched his long arm in and grabbed, catching it easy and he was up, on his feet, pushing Dean forward-

Dean stopped to grab it and Sam shoved him forward again, smacked him hard on the ass and growled out, "Get it fucking later. Move. Now!"

And they were out in the parking lot, dashing to the car and throwing everything in the backseat before jumping in the front, Dean getting the car started in record time and flooring it, squealing the hell out of there.

It was ten miles down before they pulled off to take a breath and then Sam looked over at him, muscles rigid, alert for danger, "Want to tell me what the hell we're running from?"

Dean grinned at him then, chuckling with adrenaline and success, "Made a grand at the pool table tonight and a few good old boys got a little pissed…tried to take it back from me. Heard them grumbling and figured I could out run 'em once I made it out of the bar but it was close. Did you see that pickup we passed pulling in? That was them so good thing you can move so fast, Sammy, you just saved them from getting their asses kicked and us from a run-in with the local law."

Sam glared at him, "And you couldn't just leave the fucking flask?"

Dean flushed then, smile sliding off as he checked the rearview, "It's Dad's, Sam. Didn't want to lose it. Thanks, by the way. I appreciate the help."

Sam handed it over when Dean reached for it, watched as Dean shoved it in a pocket, giving him an odd, searching glance that Dean didn't understand but it made him think of midnight, fumbling hands and wet mouths and his dick started stiffening up on principle.

Dean had suddenly realized that his bottom was tingling nicely on one side from the slap Sam had delivered and a warm roll twisted in his belly as he slowly replayed the scene in his head, his brother behind him, pushing him and losing patience when he wouldn't move, the hard hand that landed full on one ass cheek with a painful crack-

He'd shifted on the seat and yeah, he could still feel it, the hot palm print seared through his jeans and an idle thought tickled through his brain, wondered what it would feel like if Sammy had hit on bare skin.

And just like that, a whole body flush had rolled over him, shocked his gut with instant lust, curled up from his toes and shot through his veins, hot steam and trembling hands, a hungry want that had his heart thudding, whole body covered in a sheen of sweat and he didn't understand what was happening-

Why was the thought of Sammy spanking him on his bare ass turning him on so damn hard?

He'd never liked that kind of thing, _never_.

Hated it when Dad would beat their asses, loathed the powerlessness, the humiliation that always came with a whupping, his Dad a big believer in Corporal punishment with little patience for denials or bargaining. Consequently, Sam and Dean were unfortunately well acquainted with John Winchester's belt, hand and hairbrush because his Dad's philosophy was a simple one. You did something wrong, you got your ass whipped, no discussion, no begging, nope, you learned the lesson fast, hard and moved on and if you didn't like it, if you fought against it, you got your ass whipped harder, until you had no fight left.

You sure the hell didn't get a boner from it, or get turned on by it.

You sure didn't get hot inside, like Dean did just thinking about Sam spanking him, thinking about getting pulled over Sam's knee, his ass bared to the wind, with Sam's big hands taking care of business and warming Dean's bottom up good and proper.

Because suddenly everything had changed, shifted, become more and Dean didn't know what to do with his errant feelings, how to cope.

Blissfully unaware before, he hadn't known what it could be like, but now, with the memory of the burn, the imprint of Sam's hand on his ass, he was razor sharp, hanging by a frayed thread, the frission of electricity darting up his spine almost too intense and the hard-on he was sporting now was almost painful-

Needed Sam to do it again, had to _know-_

With one downfall of his hand, Sammy had flipped a switch in Dean's brain, a hungry, needy switch that yearned to be explored and Dean wanted more, a hell of a lot fucking more, because it wasn't punishment at all, getting his ass slapped, nope, it was…damn, it was good. Hell, who was he kidding, it was fucking _great-_

It was…God, erotic and delicious, naughty and filthy and all kinds of wrong but perfect at the same time and so Goddamn freaking _beautiful_ -

Just the thought of it turned Dean on so good, his skin was crawling with want and he could barely breathe with it, opened his mouth to ask Sam to do it again but stopped himself damn quick, snagged the words back, because he and Sam didn't talk about this thing between them, they ignored and denied but acknowledge?

Never.

But fuck, Dean wanted more, wanted it on his flesh, wanted Sam to hold him down and make him take it and then he wanted to show Sam his appreciation-

So in spite of himself, he'd drawn in a big gulp of courage, tightened his fists onto the steering wheel to hold in his inner turmoil and whispered out an unsure, "Sammy?"

"Yeah?" Sam had swung around, been chewing on a thumbnail, looking out the window, his shoulders stiff as he stared at nothing, the night moving past the glass, shimmering lights and sleeping buildings.

"I-I-" And just like that, his courage failed him because Dean _couldn't_ ask Sam to spank him, he just couldn't. First of all, it sounded incrediblystupid andridiculous and second, it showed a weakness in his character that he couldn't let Sam see. It was freaking sick and twisted to want your brother to warm your ass before you gave him a blow job and saying it out loud was just gonna sound idiotic and needy and no way was he gonna lay himself open like that, no fucking way- "Nothing. Just-never mind."

The silence between them shifted then, turned tense and pulsing and he'd shot furtive glances over at Sam, the hulking quiet seething with emotions he couldn't identify, and Dean knew how he felt, what he wanted but he was alone in it, could never ask his brother for it because Sam didn't love him like _that._

"Shit!" Sam suddenly came to life, made an exasperated sound and slapped his hands on his thighs, turned toward Dean and reached out, gripped almost frantic around Dean's wrist, "I didn't-I didn't mean to hit you, I just wanted you to move but-I-" And Sam chewed at the inside of his lip, worrying over something in his head and finally spit it out, like it hurt him to say, "Damn it! Why the hell can't we ever talk about this, what we do together, I mean, why is it so fucking taboo? Okay, you know what? I'm just gonna do it, go for it and cross the fucking line and then after I'm done, we can go back to ignoring the fact that we like to touch each other's dicks, yeah?"

Sam sucked in a deep breath, "I liked it when I smacked your ass, it turned me on and made me think I've got a fucking spanking kink a mile long because all I can focus on right now is how much I want to do it again, I mean, I want to pull you over my knee right now and light your ass on fire. Wanna watch your skin turn bright red and make you crazy for me and then I want to go down on you, right here, right now, wanna make you come in my mouth. God, I-I'm sorry, know I'm a sick fuck, know it! Probably need to just shut the hell up right now but damn, Dean…I can't get it out of my head."

And the thrill in Dean's belly gave him the words, couldn't believe Sam really wanted it, too, "No! No, Sammy, I-me, too! I mean, I'm thinking about it, too and fuck, it just-I can still feel it on my ass, when you smacked me, and I want more, too, didn't want to say, didn't want you to think I was a freaking nut job but fuck, I-I want that, too, what you want. Want that so bad right now."

Sam stared at him in the dark, hot eyes searching his for truth as the highway lights flashed across their faces and Sam moved fast, dropped his hand down onto Dean's dick, squeezed hard and drawled low over Dean's harsh gasp, "Then you need to get us to the nearest motel room fast unless you want me to flip you over my lap right here, pull down your jeans and blister that tight ass until you're a hot mess, kicking and begging me for more. Gonna spank you so good, Dean, want you come on my leg just from that and I'm trying to hold back here, want a bed so I can have my way with you and I need you to just fucking hurry, okay?"

And of course it was okay. Dean's tingling ass said it was just fine, perfect, and he spotted a motel sign six miles up, sped toward it and pulled in fast, throwing his wallet at Sam and grunting at him to get an end unit, away from the rest of the motel because he could barely speak a coherent thought right then.

He'd thrummed his fingers on the steering wheel, nervous and freaked out at what was about to happen, his rear end alive with nerve endings and he could barely sit still with the wait of it, rocking back and forth in the seat because fuck, yeah, this was gonna be awesome!

Impatiently waited for Sam to come back and when he did, handing Dean back his wallet and directing him around the corner, to the last room, Dean could hardly contain his excitement as he hurriedly drove over, parked the car and jumped out fast, grabbing their bags and dragging them inside, Sam following close on his heels.

The door closed behind them and he turned around, faced Sam, at a loss suddenly because he didn't know what to do, how to be-

Needed Sam to lead this.

And Sammy, bless his kinky soul, had no trouble stepping up to the plate.

Sam locked the door, dropped the bag he was carrying and strode forward, took the duffle out of Dean's nerveless fingers and slung it to the side, grabbed Dean's wrist and led him forward towards the desk. He pulled the chair out with his other hand, eyes locked on Dean, staring him down and he'd watched as Sam lifted his leg slowly, planted his foot on the chair and let go of Dean's wrist, leaving him flying in the wind with no anchor in sight.

His brother's hands caught at Dean's jeans with sure fingers, heart thudding and skin aching, couldn't catch a breath at the dark look in Sam's eyes, watched as the hands worked against his pants, unzipped and unbuttoned, the denim tugged down below his ass before he was dragged forward-

Paused there and he locked on Sam's gaze again, hooded and intent, started to speak but didn't know what to say, how to break the crazy tension sizzling in the air, scared and aroused at the same time, so hungry for it, he was almost dizzy with it.

In one smooth move of Sam's arm, he was hauled in, bent over and lifted up, deposited over Sam's knee easy and Jesus, his brother was _strong_.

His shorts were pulled down then, baring his ass to the wind and fuck, Sammy was really gonna do it-

Sam rubbed a heavy hand sensuously over his trembling bottom, Dean's cock a hard rod between his legs and when Sam drew back, he caught at his breath, tensed up against the pain he knew was coming-

The first smack was hard and sharp, the crack of it loud in the air and he jerked with the sting of it, Sam's big hand covering almost all of one cheek and it burned white-hot after, the echo of it flooding his skin with sweet warm desire.

When Sam's hand soothed it over, slid down to caress his balls, he moaned loudly and spread his legs, wanting to give easy access.

The second hit took him by surprise because Sam was rubbing so nice, he hadn't been expecting the sharp bite to his other cheek and his legs kicked, ass clenched, the flare of pain making him jump.

Another rub and a finger slid down his crack, a gentle circle and fuck, he needed more of that right now-

The third crack landed below the first and Dean gave a short bark of pain because Sam was hitting hard, putting his weight into it and Dean arched up, throwing back his head, one hand on Sam's thigh, the other gripped tight on his calf, clutching the fold of his jeans.

"Fuck, Sammy!"

"You like?" Sam's voice was a whisper as his hot palm soothed again, a balm over the sting and it melted Dean's resistance, made him nod helplessly as he collapse down, tightened his grip and just _let_ Sam-

It became all he knew, the lazy tempo, each fiery crack to his needy ass made him crazy, because he wanted fast and hard and Sam _wouldn't_ -

Nope, his brother was fucking torturing him, messing with him, teasing him with each smack, and then tempting him with more because the following sensual caress was full of promise, of unfulfilled want and damn, he wanted Sam to just _get_ to the fucker, you know?

Dean's dick was swinging with each crack of hand, his flesh hungry for this and God, he wanted to hump and grind on Sam's leg, wanted his nipples pinched and bitten and his cock, well-

He needed to get off like now, his dick so hard, it ached and damn his brother with the slow shit, Dean couldn't think and he kept arching up, his body and mouth begging for more, for faster and harder.

"Please, Sammy, please-" His voice was a broken, fucked-out mess as he curled his hips, trying to rub his hurting cock on something, anything but he was hunched over Sam's leg, his ass tipped up and he was humping at the fucking air.

Couldn't even touch the floor with his feet in this position, like he was an errant child and Sam hadn't even taken off his socks, for God's sake-

And then Sam reached down, pulled his jeans and underwear off completely, shifted and turned him so that his knee was sandwiched in Dean's legs, Dean's dick squashed solid between them and fuck, that felt good-

And then Sammy just went for it.

Started laying into him with abandon, slapping each ass cheek fast, hard, until Dean couldn't do anything but kick his legs and hold on, his ass working, bucking in with each thud of Sam's palm and fuck, he was gonna come like this-

And Sam was talking, his voice a low roll but his words, fuck-

"Is this what you wanted, Dean? Getting your ass spanked over my knee like a naughty child? You need to be punished, jerk, not talking to me, leaving me all alone in this, like it was wrong and sick and it's not! I love you and I want to touch you, keep touching you and I don't want to feel bad about it anymore so you are gonna stop with this strong, silent crap you got going on, open up and let me the hell in or I'll beat your ass until you do!"

His ass was on fire, his dick even hotter as Sam's words filled him and he focused on three-

"You-you love me?"

The smacks to his bottom slowed, became thuds as Sam drove each one home with a spat of words, "Jesus Christ, Dean, _of course_! Of course I love you and I'm sick of you hiding from this, hiding from me! Want you to admit you want me, want this and want you to Fucking. Talk. To. Me."

The last four whacks landed on his tender thighs and he yelped with it, kicked fierce because damn, that hurt! Behind him, Sam stilled his hand, cupped around the bottom of both of his ass cheeks and ground Dean forward, pushing up against Dean's dick with his thigh and Dean got with the program, started humping in earnest against Sam's leg and it was just another moment until he was shouting out a harsh curse and shooting his load, the spasms wracking through his body as he emptied, his backside a raw burn as he shuddered through it, holding onto Sam like his life depended on it.

Sam had rubbed over his bottom then, crooning out love sounds and Dean felt a wave of embarrassment roll over him, just shot his wad all over his brother while getting his ass beat and Jesus, Sam saw the whole thing, saw how much he enjoyed and that was some seriously fucked up shit.

And he had nowhere to hide now.

Dean quickly shoved himself off Sam's leg, trying to find any kind of dignity he could while standing there without his pants on, still so turned on, he was flushed with it because damn, his bottom felt awesome, red hot and throbbing and he couldn't help it, had to touch-

Reached behind and rubbed his hands over himself and shit, his skin was flaming hot, his thighs aching sore and his humiliation suddenly fell away as arousal took him over and he looked at Sam with hungry eyes, needed to touch and taste, needed Sam naked right now-

Started to drop to his knees, reaching out to unbutton Sam's jeans but Sam had other ideas and lifted him up, carried him to the bed and dumped him on it, on his back, Sam on him in a heartbeat, kissed him rough as he slowly stroked down Dean's body with the flat of his palm, caught at a nipple between his fingertips and gave a tight squeeze before releasing and continuing the journey.

Over trembling skin of ribcage and belly, down to Dean's dick which was gripped, dragged up and down twice before the hand moved on, cupped and rolled his balls, made Dean cry out and arch up but Sam didn't stop there, nope-

He went even lower, found his prize and circled Dean's hole just once before he plunged in deep with two fingers and only then did he break the kiss, letting go of Dean's soft gasp as he pumped in and out of his hot channel, found Dean's prostate with the familiar touch.

"God, Sammy-" Dean had spread his legs for his brother, loved it when Sam hit that spot inside him just right and he needed Sam's mouth back on him, all over him-

"Want to be inside you, Dean, God, wanted it almost the whole time and can I?" Sam's mouth was an inch from his, the hot breath of him tickled at Dean's lips and the thrill of delight that trembled through damn near killed him, because hell, yeah, Dean wanted that, too, but he couldn't just let his little brother top and think that it was okay, that that was the way this relationship was always gonna be-

Had to fight a little before he gave up the last of his virginity.

"Not gonna be the goddamn girl with this, Sammy, I do the fucking, not you-" And his mouth was taken again, Sam's tongue diving in, stealing what little sanity Dean had left before he broke away, staring at Dean with soft eyes as he whispered out the perfect response, "How about you top tomorrow, after you give me my spanking?"

Dean's mouth fell open at the sudden images that reeled through his brain and he nodded wordlessly, surrendered dominance like it was an old coat and gave in completely, pulling Sam in and kissing back passionately because he could not fucking wait for that.

He was suddenly manhandled up, thighs wrapped in Sam's arms as he curled Dean over, knees in his face and Sam's mouth was on him, hot tongue sliding down his crack and over his hole and Jesus Christ, that felt good-

Held onto to the thick head of hair, shouted out his love as Sam went down on him, worked him wide open, spit-slick so he was ready when Sammy hunched over, hand down below and Dean felt the wicked push, the relentless drive of something huge, couldn't stop it, didn't want to.

Had to have this, filling him and he reached down, grabbed his ass cheeks and spread them wider, saw Sam's surprise and whispered out, "Nothing to hide from you. Want this, want you, Sammy. Love you."

Sam slide in with a hard push, drove home, deep and thick and filling and Dean gripped down on the hot shaft, the initial pain a distant memory as Sam started to move against him, the erotic feel of cool skin smacking against his own burnt flesh adding to the pleasure until Dean could barely stand it.

Because the thick length inside him was hitting rough over his sweet spot, making him toss and thrash, his dick stone hard between them-

He came then, from just the feel of Sam in him, no stamina at all and Sammy followed him over the edge just as fast and damn-

Hell, Dean hadn't even known he liked to bottom, had learned all these new things about himself and could barely wait until next time, until he was the one smacking Sam's ass and taking him hard, wanted to give Sam all the delight his brother just gave him, wanted to complete them both.

And just before he fell asleep, Dean remembered Sam's complaints so he rolled them both over, brushed back his brother's long hair and told him everything in his heart. Because Sam was never gonna doubt his love again.

##

They invested in the paddle three days later, spotting an adult toy store in a town they were passing through and spent over an hour in there, discussing the pros and cons of each at length, before finally deciding on the perfect one, a thick, short, flat wooden one with a small handle, one that would wield just the right amount of punch without damage, that would deliver the best swing without too awkward length and that could be used for long periods of time without tiring the hand.

When they walked out of the store, they were almost giggling, whispering and nudging each other and it was unspoken between them that the next stop would be a room for the night, just so they could break it in.

Sam was the first to feel it as it was his turn next and Dean broke it in nicely, using various swings and having Sam critique each one until he found his rhythm and then he'd paddled Sam's bottom to a scarlet red before pushing Sam down and kissing every inch, warming his lips with the heat of Sam's flesh. The lovemaking after had been quick and dirty, Dean taking Sam from behind with fierce thrusts, jerking Sam to orgasm as he reached his own and then dropping down, laying on top still buried deep, falling asleep just like that, with his mouth a slack kiss on Sam's warm back and his brother's soft snores filling the air around them.

And Dean was complete.

##

They'd loved for years like that, keeping it under wraps from Dad but since he wasn't with them a lot, it was easy to hide it, easy to wait just a few days until they could be with each other again. The spanking kept the helpless anger they both had at their lives at bay and their love filled in the rest of the gaps, until they were so tightly entwined together, they were almost one flesh.

Stayed that way until Dad starting staying with them more, started getting in Sam's face about every fucking thing he could think of to fight about and suddenly, Dean and Sam were splintering, Sam's anger coming back tenfold because there was no time for together, no time for paddling it away and Dean took on the role of peacemaker between them, trying to keep touching Sam, to tell him through hugs and caresses that he still loved deeply, that he still wanted Sam in that way.

But Sam couldn't take the hunter life without what they'd had together, he and Dean, and it worked at him, fucked with his head until he'd had to get away.

Applied for college under wraps, hadn't even let Dean in on it because he knew if he told Dean, it would kill them both and Sam wouldn't be able to leave him. So Sam had worked out his getaway plan, got it sealed and delivered and then had sprung it on both him and Dad at once, let the sparks fly and kept his head down, his goal firm and it was Dean who drove him to the bus, Dean who'd hugged him tight and slipped money in his pocket, Dean who'd cried all the way back to where Dad was holed up, getting drunk and mad as hell because he couldn't control his youngest.

It was Dean who got hurt the worst. Because he'd had heaven in his grasp, had tasted and touched it, and then watched it slip away and he would never be the same.

##

He'd looked for the paddle right after, wanting to hide it in his stuff, keep it close, a memory of Sam but he couldn't find it anywhere. Sam had it last, the last night they'd been together so he'd checked through all of the hastily discarded clothes Sam had thrown when he was packing fast, went through every duffle, every bag, even the trash but came up empty-handed. Figured Sam had taken it mistakenly and probably tossed it but he didn't know for sure and it gnawed at him all the years Sam had been gone. Wanted to know for sure if it was lost to him, as Sam had been lost to him but he was too scared now to ask Sammy about it.

##

And now, Sam's back with him.

And for the life of him, Dean can't seem to take his eyes off his brother's ass. Almost gets caught looking, jerks his eyes away at the last possible second and casually runs a hand across the back of his sweating neck, gaze flying towards whatever pretty girl is in the vicinity so Sam'll think he's skirt-chasing again. Better Sam thinks that than know what's really in his heart.

Because Dean's using that as a defense now, pretending to be some crazed Casanova so Sam won't think Dean still has a thing for his baby brother. Always knew ladies found him attractive and now it's more important than ever to use that to his advantage. So, he's always preening it up, looking at tits and cleavage instead of Sam, leering when it makes Dean's heart sick and leaving Sam stranded to hook up with a different girl each night, sarcastically shaking his head at Sammy's lack of sex life.

When he secretly just brings them home and jerks himself off later alone, remembering the past and knowing how fucked he really is. Found the true love of his life and no one will ever replace that so now he's alone and he can't cheat on Sam, won't cheat on him. Has to be able to look Sammy in the eye and tell him the truth, that he's been faithful this whole time, if they ever do get back to each other.

Dean's pretty sure that's not gonna happen anytime soon because Sam's still damn angry, about Jess dying, about Dad dragging them into this life, still trying to pick fights with Dean about him following John Winchester's orders blindly and not having a mind of his own. Dean takes it, every slash, every wound, not only because it's true but also because he doesn't want Sam to leave him again.

He's got zero pride where Sammy's concerned.

##

They find a case –

People being killed by bugs and yeah, it kinda skeeves Dean but they aren't getting too far in their search for Dad so it's better than sitting around with their thumbs up their asses.

They drive to the town, find out there's a real estate open house going on where one of the victims was killed and go in on the premise of finding a home for their aging father, just to get in the door.

But the damn sales people keep insisting they're gay and Dean can't help the wild hair that takes over his judgment, when they second person tells them they take people of all backgrounds including sexual orientation and well, he just _has_ to-

Chuckles to Sam, "Right, I'm gonna go talk to Larry. Be right back, honey." And he smacks Sam's ass on the way by, leaving him to deal with the ridiculous woman who thinks they're gay.

##

That night, at the motel, Sam's oddly quiet, keeps shooting longing glances over at Dean until, after two hours of sighs and looks, he's had enough, slaps his hands down onto his thighs, looks over at Sam in disgust and growls out, "What?"

Sam blushes, shakes his head and looks down at his hands, "Nothing."

"Come on, Sam, out with it." Dean stands up from his seat on the bed, hands on his hips, demanding answers.

Sam shrugs, "Just-it's almost Christmas."

Okay, wasn't quite what he was expecting, was thinking it'd be another crack about Dad, but okay, Dean'll bite, "Still more'n a month away, Sam. It's middle of November. Plus we don't do Christmas so what are we talking about here?"

Sam still won't look at him, "Got you a present."

"You-?" Dean swallows hard, sits down back on the bed, always gets a sucker punch to the gut when Sam shows him love and tries to cover with teasing "Aw, Sammy, I didn't know we were exchanging. I didn't get you anything."

Sam gets up, Dean watching his every move and goes to his duffle, fiddles with something there for a moment and then he's at the desk chair, with a roll of duct tape and a long athletic sock, bulky and full of something. He rigs the duct tape so it's wrapped around the sock like a bow and hangs it up on the back of the chair, like it's waiting for Christmas morning or something.

Then he turns and sits back on his bed, motioning with his head for Dean to take a look.

Dean looks at the sock and back at Sam, can't figure out the expression on Sam's face, it's excitement mixed with trepidation and Dean suddenly realize that Sam's taken a huge step of some sort and it involves him.

God, he doesn't want to fuck whatever this is up.

He gets up and goes to the sock, tense and ready for whatever kind of showdown this might be and pulls it off the chair, hefts it in his hand and it's oddly familiar, the weight of it and shape-

Dean swallows hard and reaches in, feels the handle and whirls around, stares at Sam in shock, afraid and trembling at what this might mean.

Sam grins at him, "I believe it was my turn?"

"Sammy, what-? You-I thought-how-?" And Dean can't seem to complete a damn sentence here because it's the paddle, the PADDLE, that he's holding in his hand, that he thought was lost forever and now it's like the years have fallen away and he's standing there looking in the face of heaven all over again.

And Sam is in front of him suddenly, catching at Dean's arms and holding on, like he'll fly away if Sam isn't touching him, "Been trying to figure out a way to bring this up since you came and got me at school. Know me having a girlfriend freaked you out, and then when she died-well, it freaked me out but it's been in the back of my mind, this-with you, how happy we both were, how much we needed this and I-I've missed you so much, Dean. I took it with me so I'd always have you right there, whenever I needed you. Me and Jess, well-we tried, I tried but it-it wasn't you, Dean. I love you and you're the only one I want to be with, like this. And today, when you smacked my butt, I realized I've been stupid, letting more time pass between us being together just because I'm scared. So, I'm asking you – no, I'm _begging_ you to let me have a second chance with you, with this. Because it's the only thing that's ever been right in my life."

He bends down and swipes a kiss across Dean's mouth, just a tingle of lips but it zings through Dean's gut like fire and there's no way Sam's begging for anything because whatever Dean has is Sam's and he willingly hands his heart over again-

"Of course, Sammy. Of _course_. God, come here." And he hauls Sam in, finds the sweet mouth with his own and takes what's his, what's always been his, filling himself with the taste and love of his brother and when they're done forgiving, he breaks the kiss, pushes back and pulls the paddle out of the sock, fixes a severe glare on Sam and nods to the bed, "I believe you've been bad, young man."

Sam gives him a grin and nods emphatically, "Really bad." And walks over, starts shedding his clothes, his eyes never leaving Dean's face, not stopping until he's naked, standing there beside the bed waiting for Dean to position him.

Dean follows Sam across the room, drops the paddle on the bed and sits down on the edge, reaching up to tug Sam down, lays him across the bed with his ass up on Dean's knee, his long legs splayed out on the floor behind him. He pauses to admire the view, rubbing over nice white cheeks that twitch at his touch, before picking up the paddle and laying it on Sam's skin, circling it over and around while his brother tenses underneath.

He draws back his hand, takes aim and says hoarsely in the air, "I love you, Sammy."

And swings down, takes Sam on home.

And Dean's right back in heaven all over again. This time for good.

##


End file.
